


Miles between us

by lemonlovely



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Bookish Billy, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, M/M, My Side of the Mountain, Post S3, Roadtrip, Summer Vacation, lakehouse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:02:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24499123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonlovely/pseuds/lemonlovely
Summary: Billy and Steve head on a roadtrip out East to the Harrington's lake house in the Catskill Mountains - the very setting of a book Billy's held onto since he was a kid, dreamed of running away to once upon a time. Never thought he'd make it there for real. The trip stirs up dark memories of the past, where running away seemed like the only option. But now that he's actually here, he finds he has something he didn't before. Steve.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	Miles between us

**Author's Note:**

> For Tracy! I really hope you like it <3

The gas station was dingy. That’s what Harrington had called it, when they’d pulled up to pump some gas. Dingy was a nice way of putting it. If you asked Billy, he’d say it was a fucking shithole, which was also exactly what he’d told Harrington. But they were in the middle of nowhere, Harrington said, so what did he expect? There weren’t a lot of options around, so Billy guessed that was true enough. Not like he really cared. He’d been worse places. 

Either way, he as still wandering around in said-shithole because his stomach was growling, and he was fully planning on stocking back up on questionable gas station jerky, another couple bags of chips – Barbeque for Harrington, Salt and Vinegar for Billy, and Maxine was on her fucking own. Okay, so maybe he grabbed Pringles for her. She couldn’t say he didn’t do nothin’ for her. 

She was gonna get her greasy hands all over Harrington’s fancy ass beamer, and there wasn’t anythin’ he could do about that. Billy stuck a stick of jerky in his mouth and gnawed on it between his back molars as he headed back for the cooler to grab a couple drinks – glass bottle cokes - to shove under his arm and headed up to the check out. On a whim, he grabbed a few ring pops and a candy necklace off an end cap. 

He shoved a couple of ten dollar bills Harrington’d given him for ‘snackage’ and leaned heavily against the counter top, a saucy, toothy grin curling half his mouth as the jerky hung from the other corner. 

“Afternoon,” he purred at the check out girl. 

She stared back at him and almost dropped her walkman she’d been listening to, shoving her foam pad head phones off of her ears as she ogled him. Her eyes had already been on him all around the tiny, cramped roadside station anyway. 

“Will uhm – will this be all for you?” She asked, fumbling for the first bag of chips to ring up. She touched at her neck with the other hand, as if blotting sweat from her skin with her fingertips. She looked like she should be milkin’ cows or somethin’. Where the fuck were they? Hickville, USA? Worse than Hawkins, he figured.

“Oh I think so,” Billy hummed, “Unless you have any – suggestions?” 

The girl choked on her gum and started coughing.

“QUIT FLIRTING WITH THE GAS STATION LADY AND LET’S GO!” Max howled like a little bitch from the door. 

Billy’s smile dropped and he glanced at her sharply, snatching the stick of jerky from his mouth to point it at her. “I’m fucking coming, hold your goddamn horses.”

“Uh we don’t have time for your schmoozing,” she said, all red faced from the door, scowling and fanning her sweaty cheeks with a folded up paper map. “It’s way too hot for this shit! And I’m done peeing! Let’s go!” She tapped at her new calculator watch she’d gotten last Christmas all imperious, like the goddamn time master and Billy huffed a sigh. 

Max turned away in a flash of humidity frizzed, copper red hair, pirouetting like a ballerina to stomp off towards the Beamer waiting at the pump. She was ruinin’ his goddamn game.

Harrington was leaning up against the brick red BMW just beyond her retreating back, arms folded over his chest, black shades down low over his eyes as he smirked at the gas station. Apparently amused. But Billy wasn’t lookin’ at that. At him. Always at him.

Billy plastered his big smile back on and turned to the flustered cashier instead. Billy added on a new pack of gum and a pack of smokes for the road, even though Harrington’d bitched at him about lighting up at the pump or he was gonna ‘set them all on fire.’ Billy didn’t necessarily think that was true. Hadn’t happened to him so far.

Billy finished paying for the snacks plus put down the cash for the gas (Harrington’s cash) and winked at the cashier a bit more until he felt satisfied that he still had that Hargrove-charm, scars or no, then started on his way out. 

Just as he was almost out the door, that creep Byers’ suddenly lurked up, his shoulders all hunched and hands in his pockets and gave Billy that painfully shy smile of his. Ah Jesus Christ. Billy thought they were in suuuuch a hurry?

“Sorry, I’ll be right there – I forgot I needed to grab some more batteries for Will’s Game & Watch.” 

“Knock yourself out.” Billy really didn’t care. Didn’t need his life story, alright?

Billy shrugged and shoved his way past him without a word, the little bell jingling above the door. The plastic ‘thank you’ bag swung from Billy’s hand as he strutted across the tiny dirt lot towards the #1 pump. Byers’ piece of shit beater car was pulled up to #2 behind them. A real tragedy. 

“What did you bring me!” Henderson demanded as he eyeballed the snack bag as Billy headed around to the passenger side, whose eyes lingered only on Harrington as the other boy hooked the pump back up. 

“Didn’t bring you shit.” Billy grumped and slid into the passenger side, ‘cause even if Henderson had called ‘shot gun’ that didn’t mean anything. Billy’d made sure of it. Billy was older, and stronger – he got to ride shot gun. Not Henderson. 

“Pleeease tell me you got him something,” Harrington laughed as he got into the driver’s side, clicking the door shut behind him as Henderson scrambled into the rear behind him. He hung onto the back of Harrington’s seat like some annoying little kid, staring at Billy with big shocked eyes. “He’ll never shut up if you didn’t.”

Billy sighed. “Man if you keep cracking sunflower seeds the next thousand miles, I fucking swear – “ 

“Uh okay you’ve been eating sunflower seeds too – “ Henderson pointed out. Billy shoved the bag of seeds at him with a disgusted sniff. 

Meanwhile, Harrington grabbed up the flimsy gas station bag to pass around everything from bottles of coke, to chips, to jerky for Billy, and Max stuffed a vanilla Moon-pie into her mouth in practically one piece. She sniffed out the candy necklace pretty quick with delight, and Henderson started slurping on one of the ring pops (which Billy immediately regretted purchasing.)

Max spit out a few chunks of her moonpie when she talked, as she slung the elastic of the candy necklace over her head. “Billy picks out the best snacks.”

Billy made a disgusted face where he’d been turned back towards her, and swiped a spitty crumb off his cheek, unimpressed. “Man, think before you speak. Spittin’ all over the damn place.”

“No I’m not!” Max spit all over the place. Billy shoved a piece of jerky in his mouth and twisted back around, knocking his Aviator’s off the toppa his head down over his eyes to mirror Harrington. 

They all watched as Byers’ shuffled across the tiny lot, raising dust behind him like Pig-Pen on Peanuts as he headed back towards his tuna can on wheels. Billy guessed he couldn’t really talk shit, though. Not like he had a pair of wheels of his own, anymore. At least not a pair that ran. 

“Back on the open road!” Harrington announced like a total fuckin’ nerd. Billy’d always known it. 

Billy sighed like all the life was goin’ outta him and slumped back in his seat, pulling the lever to recline it back and shove into Maxine’s legs. Trying to stretch out a little, his body starting to ache – protesting sitting for too long. 

“UH EXCUSE ME I’M SITTING HERE YOU KNOW.” 

Billy pushed the seat back one more time to hear her squawk of indignation before he straightened it out slightly, and started fucking with the tapes in Harrington’s glove box, trying to find anything that wasn’t emotional, poppy garbage. He spun the dial on the radio, and found a bunch of nothing – fuzzed out static and some random Christian talk stations. Was a tragedy. 

“You can put the road trip mix back in?” Steve offered, like they hadn’t already listened to it eighty times since they left Hawkins proper. 

“Knew I shoulda brought my tape case, man.” 

Harrington laughed, this sweet sound, and as per usual, it made something flutter around wildly in Billy’s guts. Something winged and breathless, flighty as a bird.

“Do you think Will would let us use his Game & Watch?” Henderson piped up from the back where he was chugging down his Diet Pepsi so he could spit the sunflower shells into the bottle, and licking at his ring pop like a moron. Billy didn’t know how he could be eating, or drinking so many things at once.

“Okay okay so wait explain it to me again,” Harrington said, holding out a hand as he kept the other on the wheel. “What’s it do again?” 

Maxine sighed and shoved her socked feet – where’d her shoes go? – up on the back of Billy’s seat and touched at his hair with her smelly toes. Billy grunted and smacked at one of ‘em as she laughed like the freakin’ devil.

“Cut it out Maxine!” She wiggled her toes – one of her ugly striped socks had a hole in ‘em, and he could see her pinky sticking through. “Get your gross goddamn feet outta my face, or I fuckin swear – “

“They’re not even in your face!” 

Harrington groaned and slumped over the wheel, sipping at his coke in the I-only-like-the-coke-in-the-glass-bottle-Billy! Bottle like it was keeping him goin’. 

“Guys do I need to give you another time out?” 

“That didn’t work last time!” Henderson said, like that was so freakin’ helpful. “We’re not five, Steve!”

“Yeah I think I know that!” Harrington sighed. “Seriously guys! I need to know what the Game & whatever thing is.” 

“I already told you Steve! It’s by Nintendo, and you play it, and it flips open and you play video games on it.”

“But there’s no TV.”

“Of course there’s no TV that’s the point of it. So you can play it on the go. Technology is rapidly advancing, and we have to stay on the modern cusp of it – it’s about convenience.”

“I mean it’s cool and all but he had to replace the batteries like every five minutes.” Maxine said like a little shitheel, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Was just mad she didn’t have one, Billy knew. Billy wasn’t even sure how the Byers’ had afforded one, but apparently their ma’s new job was rakin’ in some better dough than before. “It’s even worse than the walkie talkie, and that thing takes like – eight batteries!”

“But how do you play it without the tv?” 

“It has a screen, well, two screens. It’s modern technology!” 

“Your walkman alone probably eats as much batteries as that thing.” Billy said as he let the jerky get all spitty and good in his mouth, staring out the window as the endless trees flashed by. 

Didn’t look much different from Hawkins, even though they were already a few states to the East. And it was fucking hot, Maxine was right. Harrington had on the AC blowin’ like it wasn’t expensive as hell to run, and it was _still_ hot and sticky in the car. Billy didn’t mind it much, though. Too hot was better than too cold. He preferred it that way, now. His Camaro hadn’t ever had AC – that was only in fancier cars, like the BMW.

Either way, he thought about popping a few of the pearl snap buttons open on his top, a patterned short sleeve, like he might have done once upon a time. Then finally did it. He undid a few snaps, leaning his head back against the headrest with a squeak of leather, and for a second thought he caught Harrington’s eyes on him – but when he looked, they were just on the road. He had a white wife beater on underneath, which was new for him. But he wouldn’t have gone without, not anymore. Not after last summer. Was weird to think it’d been a whole year since…everything. 

“Oh wait. Nevermind. I can’t use anything like that in the car, my mom says it makes me carsick.” Henderson announced. Jesus Christ. 

“Jesus Christ.” Billy said.

Billy twisted around to snatch for Maxine’s walkman. “Gimme the walkman. If I gotta hear the road trip mix again I’m gonna throw myself out the door – “

Maxine hissed like an angry cat and kicked at him as he grabbed for her orange foam pad headphones and the gray walkman as she worked to keep it out of his reach. “No it’s mine, Billy!”

“Gotta learn to _share, Maxine!_ ”

“Man guys seriously! Seatbelts?! Oh my god it’s like you’re five years old – “ Harrington flapped at them wildly with one hand as he kept his eyes on the road. “I’m driving here! Can you see I’m driving here? What’s wrong with the road trip mix? I thought it was pretty quality – do you know how long it took me to make this?” Harrington shoved a mouthful of barbeque chips in his mouth.

Billy flipped Max off then got back in his seat as Henderson joyfully watched the exchange between them like it was some sorta television show. 

When he’d gotten turned back around, Steve was waving. 

“Who the hell’re you waving at?” 

“Oh, Nancy – she’s waving at us from back there, I can see her in the rear view mirror.” Harrington got that stupid little smile on his face. Billy’d seen it before. Maybe he’d still throw himself out the door.

“What, like she needs something?” Henderson asked.

“No, no I think just like saying hello.” 

Billy groaned and rubbed his hands over his face, feeling the rough scrape of callused palms, ridged with scars, over his cheeks. He could not go through this with Harrington _again_.

Harrington made a face and dropped his hand to glance over at him, those perfect pretty boy eyebrows going up. “What? What’s that sound for?” 

“Man I still got no idea why you invited them.” 

“Uh because it was the polite thing to do? We invited Will, and El was staying with the Wheeler’s, so – “ 

“Yeah, we got another space back there for Will, don’t we? Why’d you have to invite Joanie and Chachi back there?” 

Harrington made his little stern mouth like he thought he was bein’ real cute or somethin’. “Well, Jonathan’s back in town with Will, and Nancy wanted to see him, so…”

“And that justifies you invitin’ them to your fancy, ritzy lakehouse _how?”_

“What, you didn’t want them to go?”

“He’s been telling you that like all week, Steve.” Maxine said from the back. Even though she had her headphones on over her ears, she was clearly still eavesdropping through the foam pads. Sneaky bitch.

“They’re my friends, too.” Harrington pointed out. “That’s what I’ve been saying all week, too.”

Billy considered pitching himself out the door again. He could not believe that they were gonna be stuck at Harrington’s parents fancy pants lake house – honest to God _lake house_ \- with _them._ Was like a sick joke or something.

“Yeah I don’t – I don’t even know what to tell you ‘bout that, Harrington.” Billy shook his head, and then patted at his jean pocket out of habit. Ah shit right, he crushed his last pack of smokes. He scowled and started digging around in the ‘thank you’ bag. Bingo. He pulled out the crisp new pack of Marlboros, and cracked the window.

“Can we please not talk about that again? You’re gonna let the cold air out.” Harrington moaned.

“Yeah well, it’s that or have me go crazy in this goddamn car.” Billy shook his head and lit up with the strike of his Zippo, scowling around the filter as he blew smoke up at the crack in the glass. He dropped the Nancy Wheeler topic, though. There was way too much to unpack there, and they hadn’t done that in the last six months, so he figured it wasn’t gonna happen now, either.

Harrington made a grabby hand at him and Billy handed him one too, lit it up and everything. “You and me both.” He cracked his window too, and pulled out the ash tray from the center of the dash. 

“Max!” Billy barked at the back. “Gimme the map back.” He knew there was a turn comin’ up, he just couldn’t remember where. 

She scowled and adjusted her headphones like she had better things to be listening to than him, and passed it back up as he took her makeshift fan away from her. 

Henderson had started reading one of his comics even though he kept complaining about getting ‘carsick’ but it hadn’t happened yet.

The trees zipped on by on either side of them in a blur of pine green and bark brown, all blown out bright and colorful in the summer sun. The cracked windows brought in the smell of baking asphalt and the heady scent of golden pollen drifting in off the trees.

Harrington put the road trip mix back in, and Billy regretted ever getting in the car for the eightieth time. The other boy started humming and sort of bopping along in his seat, so that meant he’d pretty much lost him as a conversation partner, even if something big and fond swelled in Billy’s chest cavity like a balloon. But he wasn’t thinking about that.  
Instead, Billy grabbed for his brown bookbag at his feet, cig dangling from his lips, cherry burning bright as he dug around until he found the book he’d carefully tucked away.

He could feel himself sinking back into the silence that had been so common for him…before. For a while. A long time. Before Harrington had initially shown up and started talking and talking and talking until Billy finally had to talk back just to try and get him to shut up. It hadn’t worked. And now here they were. 

Talking.

He settled in more comfortably in his seat and clicked his belt back into place – something Billy never would have done in another lifetime, just on principle, but he guessed he’d come around to the idea after driving around with Harrington for the last several months, and the whole having the Camaro rammed around a couple times and he’d nearly gotten thrown through the windshield more than once. One of those times was ‘cause of Harrington, but they didn’t talk about that either. 

Harrington had tried this horrible, fumbling sort of apology once, but Billy’d never let him finish. Hadn’t wanted to hear it. Told him never to bring it up again, and thank god he hadn’t. He was glad Harrington had done what he’d done. Billy could hardly live with himself as it was – he knew for a fact he wouldn’t have, if he’d gone through with killing everybody in that station wagon. Killing her.

"Turn here. Right there," Billy pointed. Harrington dutifully turned on his blinker.

Billy didn’t have any sort of worry about getting carsick, unlike Henderson. He folded back the worn out cover of _My Side of the Mountain_ and picked back up where he’d left off only a few pages in. He’d started off with a fresh read of it for the trip to get a good refresher. He settled back into the comfortable, familiar words of Sam Gribley while Harrington’s god awful tunes continued to drown out everything else. Plus his…awfully cute singing-along voice. Billy might’ve been listening to the deep singsong of his voice, more than actually paying attention to the worn out, dog-eared paperback in his hand. He’d rather have eaten the book than admitting to _liking_ it, though.

“How much loooonger?” Henderson moaned a while late after the tape had already flipped sides. “It feels like we’ve been in this car for a decade, Steve!”

“It’s only like, a ten hour drive. We’ll be there about eight o’clock.” 

“Are we going to stop at a motel or anything?”

Billy definitely did not want to stay in a motel. Any motel. They were all the same, and he’d had some…not great experiences in the last one he’d stayed at. Several stays, in fact. None of them good, in retrospect.

“No, we can drive through to New York State as a straight shot. There shouldn’t be any reason to actually stop.” Harrington replied.

“And you aren’t feeling fatigued? You’re sure?” Henderson pushed. 

“No, I’m not feeling fa – fatigued.” Harrington got that little wrinkle along his brow that usually meant he wasn’t sure exactly what a word meant, but wasn’t asking. 

Was funny how Billy had started to be able to recognize all of his little looks and quirks and – well. He guessed they’d been around each other a lot, lately. Made Billy feel kind of good or something that he was starting to pick up on those little things, or that he had been for a while. Like maybe they were really friends or something.

He was glad Harrington hadn’t asked him to drive, or trade off or anything. He’d do it if he had to, he guessed, but – he hadn’t really been driving for a while. Didn’t even know where he’d start, getting behind the wheel again. Even if he’d wanted to get behind the wheel of Harrington’s pretty little BMW time and time again, back _before_ , just to show him a thing or two about how she could move. But he’d never really gotten the chance. Billy sucked his lower lip in with the thought, eyes drifting a bit out of focus on his page. 

Harrington glanced over at him, and maybe it wasn’t only Billy that had started to notice all those little things. He made this soft face, and his eyebrows lifted up, while the corners of his mouth curled down. “You doin’ alright?”

“Mm. ‘m alright.” Billy murmured. He didn’t know why Harrington was asking. He pulled his gaze away from him – maybe he’d been looking at him too much or something, or was being too quiet. Sometimes it weirded people out when you were real quiet, Billy’d learned.

“Okay, just makin’ sure.” Harrington smiled. “I know it’s kind of a long drive, sorry.”

“Oh you’re sorry if it’s Billy.” Henderson griped.

“Okay please stop busting my balls here, I think you kind of agreed to the time it’d take before we left.”

“But in practice it’s – “ 

“Leave Steve alone he’s driving!” Max slid her headphones off her ears. “Here, I’ll play hangman with you, okay? Jeez you complain _so much._.”

“On the contrary, I think I complain just the right amount for the situation.” 

“Maybe we _should_ have asked Will to borrow the Nintendo thingy…” Harrington sighed to Billy in a stage whisper, sweeping a hand through his perfect coif of hair and glancing over at him with a wry look. Like that could have distracted Henderson.

“Batteries are probably already dead back there.” Billy realized that his cigarette had burned out down to the filter, and he wasn’t sure when or how that had happened. He’d just been flicking it against the window on occasion. Now he flicked the butt outside, and rolled it up. Harrington’s was already gone – when’d that happen?

“What’re you reading?” Harrington asked him.

“It’s called _My Side of the Mountain._ ” 

Billy rubbed his free hand over his chest where the outlined ridges of his scars traced over the textured surface of his wife beater. They were starting to ache a little more, more than just from the endless sitting - like when weather was starting to move in. Like he was a goddamn weathervane. He glanced up at the skies above them and it still looked mostly blue with a few fuzzy white clouds here and there, but when he snapped the visor up, he saw a cloud bank up high on the horizon. It was thunderous and dark, rolling across the lip of the world up ahead of them through the rolling hills and the reach of the tree canopy. 

“Looks like rain.” Billy said.

“Oh shit I didn’t even see that.” 

“Uhhhh Steve car accident statistics during turbulent weather are – “ Henderson started, before Harrington cut him off.

“It’ll be fine – a little rain won’t hurt us.” Harrington shook his head, then redirected the conversation. “So what’s the book about?” 

“Oh don’t even get him started!” Max said from the back as she pulled out the spiral ring notebook from her ratty Jansport backpack. “Billy thinks he’s gonna go live in some _tree_ \- “ 

Billy’s eyes flashed wide as his nostrils flared, half lowering the book as he glanced back over the headrest, pupils narrowing dangerously as he pointed the book at her. He could feel a flush of heat across his throat, peeling his upper lip back in a snarl.

“Don’t start it, shitstain, you’re already on thin fuckin’ ice – “ 

“ – and tame an eagle or something – “

Steve let out a good hearted, breathless laugh as he glanced over at Billy from the road. Those dark bambi eyes were so wide, and he had the softest smile on his face. “Wait what? A tree? An eagle?”

“I do NOT. That’s – just what the character in the book does. And she’s a _falcon_ not a goddamn eagle, dumbass – you read it too - “

“Uh yeah because they made us read it in school,” Max called in delight from the backseat, clearly enjoying teasing the everloving shit outta Billy. Was her favorite past time or somethin’. 

“It’s a classic tale of a boy becoming a man, a coming of age story if you will, where a young boy runs away to the Catskill Mountains to learn to fend for himself against impossible odds – “ Henderson started going off. Billy nearly threw the book at him. The curly headed little shit flailed and threw his arms over his face in defense, even if Billy didn’t actually do it. “ - it has the honor of being a Newbery Medal award winner – “ Kid didn’t know when to shut up. 

“You should have seen his _face_ when he found out your family had an actual cabin in the Catskills and that we could _go_ there.”

“You seriously comin’ for me right now?” Billy snapped at her. 

“I’m just saying!”

“Yeah well _I’m_ just saying I’ll ram this book so far down your throat you’re gonna – “

“Okay, alright, that’s fine I – I get what it’s about.” Harrington said. “He seriously lives in a tree? How does that work?”

“Hollowed it out.” Billy muttered, twisting back around in his seat to slump down in it and knock his boots back up on the dash, fidgeting with his seatbelt and frowning down at the rumpled paperback. “Max is a little bitch ass liar, I don’t – it’s just a good book, alright?“

“We could check it out!” Harrington said like some sorta excited puppy, as they hurtled down the little country road highway towards the bank of clouds, the hills growing higher and higher along the sides of the Beamer. “There’s a lot of cool stuff around the cabin, and a great big lake, and I think I’ve seen big birds and everything. I think it’s cool you like that, I didn’t know there was actually a book about it there. We used to spend our summers out there when I was a kid, a few weeks every year. Maybe it’ll be like your book. I think we had an assignment in school for it, but um, but I didn’t really – y’know – read it.”

He tipped his head as he smiled over at Billy, and the window was still rolled down a little, ruffling up his fluffy coif of brunette locks, making them flyaway even crazier than usual. Billy’s heart skipped in his chest, honest to god missed a few beats, and hid somewhere in his throat like a fluttery bird settling down to nest. He swallowed it back down. 

“R-Right.” Billy mumbled, brow furrowing as he buried his nose back in the book. An excuse to not have to listen to the road trip mix, promptly ignoring them.

Max finally got off his damn case as she started playing hang man with Henderson in the back, the naming of letters droning off into the underflow of Harrington’s terrible music. She was still a bitch. What was funny to him though? Was how much better they got along now. It might not seem like it to the casual observer? But they were. It was almost like back before – back before all the shitstorm back home in Cali, back before they’d had to move, back before it had been Max’s fault. Or according to her, Billy’s fault. Back when they’d really been like brother and sister, not strangers in the same house. Back before he’d hated her, and she him. 

Billy guessed the whole…dying and coming back to life thing had changed things between them. And it wasn’t something he wanted to lose. Not again – not after…not after. Was funny, how you realized how important some things were that you’d treated like shit. How fragile, breakable, precious. 

The digital clock on the dash read 3:48 in small, bright green letters when the sky first opened. The rain thundered down as Harrington continued to drive along, slower, but continuing all the same. Rain slapped against the windows, the wipers squeaking over the windshield, swiping the sloughs of rainwater away. It drummed off the roof in metallic pings, becoming a sort of white noise, a static underlying everything. Billy’s book lowered into his lap as he stared out the passenger window into the grey and the gloom, eyelids drifting lower. His scars were pounding fiercely with the weather, his joints aching in protest, the curves of his ribcage seeming to creak like the wooden mast of a ship at sea in rough winds. 

It was making him drowsy. The drum of the rain, the murmurs of the kids in the backseat, Harrington’s unfailing humming along to Tears for Fears under the din. He could feel his chin dipping down every so often as he’d nod off, and he had to catch himself, head jerking up a bit as he tried to draw himself back to the world of the waking. 

But it would only last a second, and he was slowly nodding down again. The world growing fuzzy at the edges, soft-hued, distorted. The rumble of the car beneath him fading, the smooth glide of the wheels over water slicked asphalt. 

It was raining. He couldn’t hear Harrington’s unique timbre of singing anymore, only the familiar drumming of the rain on a rusted tin roof, but not on the car roof. Thunder rumbled somewhere, half caught in a dream, half not. 

_  
“What’re you doing out here?” Max asked. She was so much smaller, though. Just a half pint._

_“Nothing! Hey, get out of here!” Billy exclaimed as he rushed up close to the edge of the old, dilapidated work shed that was at the back of their apartment building. he'd left the book back on the rickety old sewing table._

_Black mold licked along the ceiling, and there was a little squeaky window that Billy had pushed up to let in the rain-fresh air. The door hung crooked on its hinges, and didn’t close properly. Billy’d drug in different things he’d found in the alley out back, an old stained arm chair and an uneven coffee table. Sometimes he’d sneak cigarettes out here that he’d stolen from his dad’s pack, one at a time so he wouldn’t get caught. He’d cleared out the old crushed crack needles ‘n garbage and shit that had littered the floor a long time ago, with small, clumsy fingers._

_“No girls allowed,” Billy had said, sarcasm heavy, lifting his upper lip in a sneer. No stupid fake-little-sisters allowed is what he meant._

_“I wanna hang out too,” Max had said, pouting – she was so much smaller than him, with too much frizzy red hair, made wild by the ocean humidity - missing both of her front teeth, with holes in her shitty shoes. He hated her._

_“Yeah well tough shit!”_

_She set her jaw, trying to push her way in with all her seven year old might. Billy shoved her right back out, until her back smacked on the pavement in the rain – elbows banging on the cement. She grimaced like she was trying not to cry, going red in the face under her rainwater smudged freckles, and Billy banged the crooked old door shut on her. Breathing hard for a second. And that’s all it lasted for – a second._

_He had to crack the door back open – just to get a look at her. She was still sitting on the ground, sniffling and wiping at her nose, while rubbing a sore elbow. Still fighting the tears, as she sat there like a little dumbass in the rain – elbows running liquid red down her forearms where she’d skinned ‘em._

_Billy hadn’t meant to push her. Why couldn’t she just ever leave him alone? Why did she always have to follow him around, everywhere he went? He didn’t want her around – he never would. He shut the door._


End file.
